Magna Impus's Story

"Now, that's quite fine with us. We have nothing at all to hide," Impus said, giving a light chuckle. He had a small grin on his face. "If we could arrange this meeting to be held promptly, that would be quite nice. The crew is a bit antsy. We've been traveling quite a long ways, you see." he informed them.

He seemed rather sure that they had nothing to hide, and indeed, they did not. Their technology may have been quite different from the Aschen's own, but they held no true secrets.

Several figures would be present as they greeted Inviere. Impus and Khoy, of course, were there, along with a soldier, Sich Karis, dressed in a formal orange and blue uniform, the colors of Misrana, and who wore a pair of seemingly normal Guard gloves. They were Caster Gloves, but they were empty for all but shielding capsules.

Magna Impus was a fat man. That went without saying. He was nearly six feet high, though some of the crew would argue that to be his width. He wore a very simple blue suit, and, in one hand, he held a black cane with the silver head of a Callandeline at the very tip. His head was absent of all hair, including eyebrows.

And even as horrific as he was to most, he gave the Aschen Crew a charming smile. "It would be an honor to spread the knowledge of our planet, Admiral. Please, lead the way!"

"Of course, of course! There is no complaint from us, Admiral. Our word, as well, is the subject to war and terrorism, but that does not stop those of us that wish to be neutral and live in what peace we are able to. Your ships are admirable. I can't say I've studied many like it. As you can see, our own technology is...well, different is an understatement, isn't it?" he chuckled, and the rest of his fat chuckled with him, flopping jollily with every step and laugh.

Vliyain Khoy, with bronze horns adorning his head, wearing the formal Zanzaria uniform, who's small army he had once commanded as general, kept his expression stoic. The mayor had this under control, it would have seemed, and he felt no need to speak just yet.

Sich Karis, the soldier, kept her hands clasped behind her, marveling at the drab, cold corridor before them.

Impus seemed delighted to let the information go.

"Our planet, Misrana, has technology widely different from any other nation we have encountered or learned from. As I can see here, your machines are all made of different kinds of metals, yes? And computers. Run by, perhaps, a fuel that does not have a mind of its own." He grinned, the fleshy flaps of his cheeks curling over his lips.

"Not so for us. You may have noticed the Lalitia. Might resemble something you have seen on your own home world, at one time. A cross of cephalopod, insect, cetacean, and, well, the same kind of ship you have here that we sit in at the moment. We deal with biotechnology and wraith tech, which is the use of souls and...well, you might call it magic, so I've heard- to create both vehicles and weapons.

At this time, I can give you only the Military Capabilities of Zanzaria. The Triumvirate and the Rebellion are out of our reach. We are only one small country upon our planet that seeks to reach out. We did not know Terra was occupied, but you seem reasonable folk. We have no complaints. I can have coordinates sent to you, and schematics of what weaponry and vehicles we do have access to."

"There is much we wish to learn, and we will certainly keep in contact, however, I believe we have delayed our trip far too long. The Lalitia is restless. Luxury vessels do tend to get antsy without rest. I do extend my thanks, Admiral, and I shall keep all you have said in mind. I hope, one day, that perhaps there will be more between the Aschen and Misrana."

He rose from his seat, which creaked in relief, and both Vliyain and Sich rose with him. Sich's eyes lit up with questions, but she knew better than to ask when mayor Impus was so ready to depart.

What a glorious landing it was.

A large luxury vessel, the Lalitia, lowered itself into the space port. Nearly the entire craft, of all its one thousand two hundred feet in length and four hundred in height, was doused in white. The entire ship was a cross between cephalopod, insect, cetacean, and machine. There was what one would expect to be gold adorning the plated shell that made the back of the creature. To keep it lifted from the ground, several segmented legs extended from the side.

The ship sang, a low, beautiful note, echoing from its core.

The belly of the beast opened, and, parading out of it, a plethora of colorful figures dancing down a metal . Joyful music, all with the same haunting quality of the aforementioned echo, burst forth and gave the silent port life. Dancers with long tails spun in orange and blue costumes, groups of people with horns adorning their heads beat jubilant drums, and more humanlike figures rode what seemed to be a mechanical golden mammoth out into the crowd.

"Mr. Hatchet! Mr. Hatchet!" The anxiety stricken voice of an adolescent sounded over the roaring crowd, which dispersed from the ship. It was Myles Lancaster. He was dressed in casual linen; not the same grunge style he usually sported. His sights focused on a slender, black suited figure, of which had its back turned to the boy. "Mr. Hatchet! Can you tell them what to do?! They're not listening to me!"

A sudden, cold gaze was cast upon the incompetent child. One azure eye, and one cardinal eye; both contrasting the stark white of that man's skin. A wavy head of hair shaded the unnerving focus of Hatchet's eyes on Myles. His hair was infamous for being saturated in a myriad of violet dyes. The flare of rainbows seemed to splurge from his person.

A single finger sprouted up, only to point directly at Myles, with the full intention of stopping the child in his tracks; which, it did. Myles' lips almost parted for him to continue whatever previous whimpering he did. Hatchet's hand then whipped around behind to splay the scene before them. His unyielding gaze did not leave Myles. "Enjoy this." It was all he said, before grazing pass Myles to assert the group in question.

Thoughts and worry that he had disappointed Hatchet began to swirl in Myles' mind. "Damn it."

A handful of reporting staff, of which were at least publicly employed by Hatchet, were crowding the designated area Hatchet had appointed them to; he picked the spot where they'd have the best view, get the best shots, and being just fifty-feet away from 'parade' of foreigners, capture the best quality of sound.

Their bickering annoyed Hatchet to no end. "Oy! Ye'don't do it dat way! ...I don't 'tink ye'do it dat way, 'least." A fumbling, tumbling creature poked around with the other staff bodies. "Frye!" A calm, yet stern tone carried its way from behind, to the well-dressed troll. The creature's elongated ears perked up, as he was swooned by the looming authority of the voice. "Eh..." He turned to face Hatchet. Beady, lemon yellow eyes were stricken with guilt, as they darted away from Hatchet's stare. The troll slapped a calloused, green hand on his chin, only to nervously itch at his wiry, grey side-burn. "Sorry, Mista' Hatchet. Let you take care o' tings, I will." He motioned his hand to the remaining staff.

Hatchet sauntered pass the troll, not sparing him a second glance. They were in trouble, now.

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A news reporter, microphone in hand, stood in-front of the crowded cruise ship. The spotlight was on more than just the newly arrived 'aliens.'

"Hi I'm Terrence Wolf, and as you can clearly see behind me, there's breaking news for Terra, today." The man was clad in a black suit; his skin actually complimented his appearance, as he was very normal compared to the surrounding people. "The foreign nation, identifying themselves as deinzens of planet 'Misrana' landed in the Wing City Spaceport, this afternoon. It's assumed negotiations took place among the Achen occupants and the crew of this... Well, actually, if you look here..." The reporter kept focused on talking into the camera; he stepped off to the side, and motioned his hand at the Misranian people, which still poured out into the spaceport floors. The camera view would zoom into the vibrantly dressed people stepping out of the ship, and then onto the ship itself. "...It looks more like what we might recognize as a... cephlapod, which is an extinct insect found in the various deep seas of Terra." He stepped back into full view of the camera. He began to speak, once more, until the startling steps of the mammoth caused his whole person to whip around. His back crowded the camera's view for only a quick second, before he spun on his heels to face it, once more. "WOW! I think I've seen it all, folks. Let me quickly identify that animal for you: A mammoth. Well in this case, it seems to be a mechanical mammoth. It is another extinct animal, which was found here on Terra, but... apparently they still have the marvelous creatures stomping around on planet Misrana." The reporter's brows flicked up, as he was still exasperated from the mere excitement of the entire encounter. "Well, we'll continue to record the arrival the Misranian people, LIVE, and clue you in on anymore breaking news, here at CJN."

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The looming figure of Hatchet kept a keen eye on the people. "This seems... interesting." He regarded, precariously in thought.

The golden mammoth carried three figures within a pearly white howdah. The figure sitting comfortably in the middle was a rather obese man in a fancy suit, nearly as wide as he was tall. The second was a slight, beautiful young woman dressed in a blue dress that streamed from the mammoth's side and licked the air. The third was the stoic pilot of the Lalitia, who had golden horns upon his head. As they rode on a ways, the mammoth stopped at one of the many entrances into the spaceport building, extending the trunk to the door.

The fat man walked forward first, taking his daughter's hand in his own, with his other sitting atop a shoulder of the nunki captain. They walked carefully down the animal's trunk, into the spaceport, greeting the onlookers who were inside. Cameras flashed and reporters crowded. The grotesquely large man rose his arms and his black cane, smiling. "Thank you! And greetings. I am known as Magna Impus, and I am the mayor of the city that has sent the Lalitia, our ship, here to Terra! It is an honor." His voice was a low, but powerful baritone.

"This man, to my right-" he began again, patting the man with the golden horns, "-is Vliyain Khoy! He is the Lalitia's captain. This lovely lady-" He drew the girl closer to him, and she could only giggle, "Is my lovely daughter, Tanni Impus. Now, there are questions, yes?"

"We're back with you, LIVE, from inside the Wing City Spaceport." Terrence, the news reporter, quickly began to whisk himself from the camera crewman, and off to the presence of the Mayor; they were only a few yards away form the entrance. His head snapped back to look into the camera's view. "Oh! It looks like the leader of this campaign has finally arrived!" He beckoned the camera man to follow.

Soon, Terrence's microphone protruded from the crowd of hands, which undoubtedly bombarded the Mayor's personal space; one might have thought the mics resembled several spoons to feed this obese baby. Terrence was no different in his approach. "Magnus Impus, correct? Can you tell us what your world is like?! Are there other people like the ones we've seen here? Do you know if more of those people will visit Terra?" He uttered the words as best he could to reach the volume of the other marauding news-casters. The camera view jiggled here and there, and several camera flashes from onlookers contrasted a would be clear sight of the Mayor.

"That's Magna Impus. Not Magnus," the mayor told Terrence, pointing to him with the end of his shiny black cane.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, sir. Please continue." An enormous wave of embarassment rolled over the esteemed newscaster.

Magna Impus nodded, then began his short speech, describing the world. "Misrana is a vast planet, currently being scarred by war. Even so, places like our city and its surrounding forest stay untouched. We are the neutral power within the civil war, and we intend to stay as such. We have observed the technology of this world, and, well, we can honestly say that the machines we use are vastly different. Every machine and device we use is not run by gasoline, or batteries, or electricity. It is run by what you folks might call magic. We think it might be a bit different from the magic on this planet, but we can't quite be sure yet. Not only that, but we live together with our creations. Each harbors a mind and soul." he explained.

"There are many of our people here that you see now. From the nunki, like our pilot, Vliyain, here, and humans, of which my daughter and I am, and the Alula, and many others. You shall be seeing them shortly. You will also be able to interview them, as well." he said with a grin.

Terrence switched the microphone between the Mayor and himself. "Can you specify for us what this 'magic' is, Mayor Impus?" The mic was, again, shoved back up to the fat man's lips.

"It is energy. Fuel. It is life. No being can live without it. Nothing can be done in its absense. It is part of everything we do, as much as it is abused and taken advantage of. Some do not remember how vital it is that we use it responcibly. But that is another matter. Next?"

The surrounding reporters all pounced at the word, which surrounded their careers; 'Next.' Their mics whipped back to their own traps, and several questions repeated over one another to perhaps catch the Mayor's attention in the same way Terrence's did. However Terrence was still curious. "Can you tell us what the process is for actually... inserting 'life' into these machines? Is there some sort of accomplished medium you use to harness the energy?"

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In the distance, now from inside the spaceport, Hatchet watched, and listened to the Mayor; he examined the cluster of people, which included the Mayor's daughter, through his telescopic eye lense. A communications ear piece, of which carried a signal to Terrence's concealed ear mic, allowed him to listen in on the chatter. A great temptation, to see the jolly fat man crack under the complexity of the next questions Terrence presented, had swooned Hatchet's interest. The pleasureable smile creasing over his lips only made this a certainty.

Meanwhile, Myles and the much tolerable troll managed to stick by Hatchet's side, so as to have their own meager debate about the whole thing. Myles began to yawn, only to breathe in the utmost vile taste of the troll's odorous fumes. The poor boy coughed up a storm, immediately lifting a hand to pinch his nostrils shut. "My fuckin' go-!"

Hatchet glanced back at Myles to let the boy know his interruption was noted. Not one word slipped out of his mouth.

A toothy, yellow grin curled over the troll's lips. Frye gave Myles a pat on the shoulder; the child's whole body tumbled forward upon impact. "Ye'should e'spect that by now." His grey, fuzzy brows lifted in, forewarning the boy of his situation.

Myles simply huffed and puffed. His twig like arms crossed in defense of the troll's comment. "You damn well know you don't have to tell me that, Oli!" He rebuddled back at the troll in the lowest tone of voice.

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The mayor sighed. "You can ask our engineers for that information. For now, I think we shall have to get going. I'm afraid my daughter must be restless to be shown around this town to see all its wonders and amazements!" he stated, attempting to push through the crowd. Vliyain and Tanni followed, led by the wall that could probably take down entire buildings with his size alone.

Terrence drew his microphone away, and almost fearfully, side-stepped out the Mayor's way. The newscaster was not similar in fashion to the fools who did step foot in the mountain's quaky stomp. He immediately spun back around to face the camera with a smile. "Well, Terra, there'ya have it. We've got new, and hopefully friendly, people heading our way. Again, this is Terrence Wolf, here LIVE with CJN at the Wing City Spaceport. The CJN logo graphic faded into the screen, and the live broadcast was halted.

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The slender black suit set a course to meet with the Mayor outside the spaceport, at the exit to Main Street. His two companions followed from afar. Myles snapped a quick shot of the tail of the parade with his cell-phone, before the rainbow of people disappeared out of sight into Main Street. Frye simply shook his head at the boy's attempt, and proceeded to push him along. "Get'yer ass in gear. Ye'll see more of them late'a."

"Damn it! You made part of the picture come out blurry!" Myles squinted his eyes at the phone screen.

"Well, Doctor Hemi. Who've you brought me here, now?" he asked, pulling his chair closer to his desk, which seemed custom made just for the large man, who's rolls were barely contained by his suit.

Helmi held out a hand. "His name is Azric Cane. He is interested in working for you. Shane Valk found him."

"Ah!" cried the man, "Then he must be of some worth." With a hand held out, the man grinned, "I am Magna Impus, mayor of Zanzaria. This little lady here is my daughter, Tanni. Say hello, Tanni."

She grinned shyly and held up a hand in greeting, fingers moving in a half-wave.

Magna laughed, nodding. "Isn't she, though?"

Tanni gave him a light smack on the arm. "Stop it. I'm going to go, now." she said, hand coming up to cover her smile as she passed the women and Azric.

Magna dismissed the women, as well, with a fond grin. The doors closed, and it was only Azric and the mayor. He settled his clasped hands onto his desk, tilting his massive weight forward.

"So, Azric Cane. What is it you think you can do for me to serve aboard the ship?"

The large man listened with a concentration that did not falter the entire time Azric spoke. His gaze was just as unwavering, and were even more intent, even intimidating.

"Espionage, mm? Excellent. That is just what we need, though I believe you will have more use upon our homeworld than on this cruise. We are in the middle of a war upon Misrana. Zanzaria tried to remain neutral, but eventually the Rebellion and the Triumvirate will try to win our favor, or force it. For now, Gravone, the continent in which Zanzaria resides, is independent of Triumvirate rule, but...I fear that will not last long."

He shuffled in his chair, a deep rumble coming from his chest. "We may need a few more spies to help us keep our freedom. Now, if you are very serious about this, I advise you take a trip around the ship. I'll have Sich Karis, one of our top soldiers, familiarize you with the weapons after we do a brief background check. Are you quite alright with that?"

"Well, espionage on Misrana will be your main concern. There are few people we need killed, but there is much information we do need if we are going to avoid being pulled into war. We will give you much more detailed information once we are in Zanzaria. For now, please enjoy the time you will have here on the Lalitia. It will be a luxury you won't have very often once you start your job."

"Tanni? If you can get her to even speak to you long enough, I would be greatly impressed," he chuckled. "She is of a bashful sort, just like her mother. You would have better luck with our head of entertainment, Aretu Liiga, as busy as she is. Every part of the crew is very familiar with the ship, however. Just tell them you are from Terra and they'll not hesitate to show you around."

The bar doors opened.

A man made of blubber entered.

Though the term was not literal, it may of well been. The man who walked in was so terribly fat that, with every step he took, much more than his feet moved. He was of more than six feet tall, and just nearly that wide. He had a few strands of black hair combed over his mostly bald head, of which he was also missing eyebrows, and he had on the fanciest suit that kept all the bovine mess contained.

In one grubby hand, he carried a black cane, tipped with a silver Callandaline figurine head. He strode in with a wide smile. "So...this is Gambit's!" He opened his arms wide and took in a deep breath.

"Glorious!"

The immensely obese suit-wearing whale further walked into Gambit's further, his shoes thumping loudly onto the ground next to the cane. "They were right. Every manner of beast and man seem to join here. Come, Tanni, now come! Don't be so scared! Your old man would never let anything happen to you."

His hand came to rest between the girl's shoulder blades, and she was gently pushed forward. She seemed to shy away from all the noise and commotion all the more, however.

She did not have a choice as she was ushered to a table. Tanni quickly took a seat. Magna had a bit more trouble.

He was so large, no seat would take him.

"Of course, of course. Are you a bartender?" Magna asked Jarkal, clasping his hands and resting them onto the table. "Or perhaps just a server? I would like to try some Terran rum. From the news I've been given, it's rather different than what we have on Misrana. I thought, well...if it was good enough, why not buy a few crates to carry back home?" He laughed, and so did the rest of him.

"Of course, my daughter, here, may have a taste, too. Not too much for her, though! She has to guide her handsome father back to the ship!"

He laughed. "Of course! Just charge me on the Lalitia's tab! All my employees have been using it as of late. We will be able to pay for any expense- trust me on that!"

Especially with the very large amount of Terrans that were paying for the cruise on the luxury space cruise upon the Lalitia.

"We are more than travelers, good boy! We are politicians. We are entertainers! We are Zanzarians! And I am the Zanzarian mayor." He gestured to himself proudly. He intended to spread his name and influence to every corner of the bar currently.

And soon, everywhere in Wing City. The messenger robots were already working on that using his daughter's image.

Tanni had kept her eyes down most of the time, glancing at Jarkal before smiling wide and holding up her hand to her mouth to hide it. Magna chuckled and reached a jiggly hand over, wrapping it around her shoulder and patting it gently.

When Jacob made his way over, their attention was turned. Tanni's large brown eyes wandered up to him. Magna, as always, smiled fondly. "Such a place as Gambit's? A place so wonderful? Surely, you jest!" He held out that same hand, which may have belonged to an elephant in a past life, presenting it to Jacob.

"I am Magna Impus. This is Tanni, my daughter. Say hello, Tanni!"

The girl pursed her lips, then offered a sort of wave and a breathy, "...hello."

Magna's hand swallowed Jacob's.

The whale was hungry.

"Very nice to meet you, Mister Haley! I've yet to meet anyone of such importance here yet. Please-" he began, gesturing to the chair beside Tanni, "-have a seat. Perhaps you can coax a few words out of this woman, here." he joked, though the man hoped it could be true. Tanni was always so shy. It worried him!

To Jarkal, he gave a slightly worried glance. "Yes? Is there something wrong with my tab?" he asked. "I set it up myself. Unless my whole crew spent it all in the three nights since we've landed, there should be no problem."

Tanni grinned at Jarkal's wink. Oh! The attention was just too much!

And even Jacob, now, whoever this man was. One hand came up to rub the side of her neck nervously. One would think she was used to so much attention, being the mayor's daughter and all...

As lightning shot through the window, both Impus' jumped. Magna, rolled up his sleeve, exposing what seemed to be an expensive gold watch. He pressed a small button to the side, then spoke into it.

"Sich, if you could bring your security team to Gambit's bar, I would be appreciative. Thank you."

"Well, isn't that strange? Millions of credits gone from the spending of so few!" he bellowed sarcastically, eyes widening as though he were serious. He gave Jarkal an amused smile. "Well, I have no idea what gold is, so why don't you tell me how much that is in Terran credits, yes? We have someone that can convert Misranan currency to Terran quite easily.

To Jacob, he nodded. "I see...a usual occurrence? Such violence? How entertaining!" He looked toward the door as a security team, all dressed in blacks and blues, gathered in and around Tanni and Magna. One came up and saluted by touching her hand to her forehead.

"We're here, sir, and not too late. We saw the lightning from the street, as well." the woman said. She was a young, raven-haired girl, who must not have been older than her early twenties.

Magna nodded. "Thank you, Sich. Go on with your business, now. Just keep an eye out."

Tanni looked at Jacob, stared for a moment, searching him, and nodded with a shrug. "I...you're not terribly unpleasant at all..."

"Expensive...I'm sure." Magna said to Jarkal. "I'm afraid I have no such thing as, ah...coins. I have only the credits and the paper money. Again...the amount it would be in credits? I would like my drink soon!"

"Misrana," Magna replied for his daughter. "In the continent Gravone. The city Zanzaria." He was just placing his cane atop the table when Sich came up to him.

"We have a bit of a problem at the ship, Impus. We need to go." she told him, eyes digging into his. With a groan, Mag Impus slid from his seat, which groaned in relief from being freed of his weight. He gazed at Jacob.

"Forgive us. I would have liked to stay longer, but Tanni and I must leave. Until next time! If you would like to visit, we are parked at the spaceport. We are the very large white cruise liner, the Lalitia. Please, I'm sure my daughter would like you to visit sometime." he said to him. He held his hand out to Tanni, who took it gladly, and they were both off with the security team.

Not before Tanni gave him a wave, however, and a smile.